"The Truth about Forever"

I was heading towards the kitchen, around the back of the house, when I saw it. A few days at my dad's old summerhouse, which was newly refurnished, I was getting used to the old signs of my dad, like his old coat and photo of him and mom. But I hadn't thought about this. It was the same shed I had walked by a few times today. Old boars and rusty nails made it a classic little addition, and my dad used to keep his old fishing gear stuffed inside; my sister hadn't even considered tearing it down. It must have been the sun, or the windows on the side of the house, that made something sparkle and gleam for that second I walked by; and now I was standing eye to eye with a nail.

I don't remember the exact day, or the weekend we were up here, but I do remember my mother telling the story to me. "You were so exited," she used to say with a twinkle in her eye. "And your dad, too. You were about four or five then, with hair cut as short as your ears, and you had gone out fishing with him. And when I was sitting reading a book on the front poor, out of nowhere you ran up to me with the widest grin on your face and began shouting 'I caught one! I caught one!'"

And I remember her telling the neighbors, too, about how when dad came back with me after catching my first fish, he pulled me up and gave me a kiss. "Only one thing we can do," he said with a chuckle. And then he slammed it up against the wall and took his hammer. I screamed as he nailed the fish right to the wall of the shack. I looked up at my dad, a terrified expression on my face. And then he pulled me up and whispered in my ear something, and a grin spread across my face. "Now the fish can stay here, look out at the sea. Just like you and me, right? We're just gonna keep on staying her, watching the sea."

And there the nail was, old and crooked to the left, but still just as it was. Some things, like memories, always stay the same.

I thought I had accepted my dad's death, gotten over the grief; and maybe I have, with my new job, and Wes, and this vacation and my mom finally accepting it all. So I decided to tell Wes.

It was after dinner, and the sun had just gone down, so fast we almost missed the sunset, and we were taking a walk. I felt the cold sand, smooth and slippery like water itself, between my toes, and I turned my face away from him.

"Did I ever tell you the story," I began, "of when I caught my first fish?"

He looked over at me with a wide smile, and nudged my bare shoulder. "Like you ever tell me anything?" he said, with laughter in his voice. I smiled, too, and I told him about me and my dad catching that fish, and when I was finished, he laughed. "Wow, your dad was something."

"Yah, he really was. Have I told you the story, about my seventh birthday party?"

I didn't even let him answer. I talked, just waking next to him, about all these memories that were popping up in my head. And he started, too. He told funny stories of his mom, and his brother, and we just talked- not like the 'truth game', but more like we were looking through a photo album, and finally remembering. And it was the first time I remembered all these stories since my dad's death.

When we were walking back, and it was getting later, he stopped and flopped to the ground, bringing me down with him. "I have a surprise for you," he said suddenly, his eyes gleaming. "You going to guess what it is?"

"Of course I know what it is already. You're becoming the president!" He laughed. "Or…," I said, not caring, "You are moving to Japan!"

"Better."

"Better than sushi and rice all day? Don't think that's possible."

"I'm switching schools. I'm going to start attending where you're going."

"We're going to go to school together?" I said sadly.

"Yes," he said, his excitement dwindling.

I leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips, brushing his hair to the side. "Then I guess it's going to be a much better year than I thought it would be!"

"Sorry, but no. Tomorrow's a school day. The first day of school."

"So?" came Kristy's voice, ringing cheerfully through the phone. "It's going to be one of the best parties of the summer!"

"You mean fall?"

"God, just cus you're going to school doesn't mean summer's ended. You and Wes and that fancy school of yours."

I laughed. "Let me guess, Wes won't go out tonight either?"

"And I even picked out a wardrobe for tonight!" Kristy was a fashion expert.

"You can still go, you know."

"Well of course I'm going. It just wont be as fun with out you guys."

"Oh, how sweet."

"I try."

"But tomorrow night?" I paused for a second.

"Either way I'm dragging you out from under your books. I'll let you go have fun playing jeopardy or whatever you boring people do at this time of night."

"Ever heard of the SAT's?"

"Oh. My. God. If you're not going out, at least sleep."

"I'll consider it," I said with a laugh. "Talk to you tomorrow."

"Yah, bye."

To tell you the truth, I was a little nervous about the first day of school tomorrow. Or a little more nervous for Wes. I shifted through the books for this year. The chemistry book weighted a ton. Shoes tapped politely in front of my door.

"Yeah, come in. Just packing my books for tomorrow." My mom walked in wearing a dark navy blue dress and black shoes. "Oh, you have school tomorrow, that's right. So you're staying home tonight, then?"

"Yep."

"Well that'll be a first," my mom said sarcastically as she smiled in my direction. "I'm going to some half dinner half meeting type of thing," she said, holding up a little clutch to somehow prove the fact she was leaving. "So don't stay up to late or anything."

"Sure. But do you no where that green shirt is," I paused, thinking, "with the stripes of gray?" My mom had started doing the laundry, and I would never get used to that.

"Yah, it's in the dryer," she said as she walked out the door.

"Have fun."

"Thanks. Lock up after me," she screamed up the stairs as she walked down towards the front door.

After I had finished packing, and picked out what I was going to wear tomorrow (it was some sort of tradition I did before the first day of school) I searched through my jewelry box until I found a necklace. Walking to the mirror, I tied the coarse string behind my neck and let the small nail rest on my collarbone. I looked up and saw myself in the mirror, smiling, my dad's old nail dangling from my neck. Everything was going to be all right after all.